Resurgence
by GoldenPiggy
Summary: Resurgence: (adj.) rising or tending to rise again; reviving; renascent. It was a horrible accident, what happened, and Cree and Abby are still trying to deal with it.


_**So hello i've returned from school work and stuff. Nice to see anyone again. Really, this was supposed to be a teenager angsty-thing scene with no real plot and only emotion and it kind of turned into a story I might actually want to continue one day so. Yeah. That happened. Uhm. Last time I watched this series was long long ago. Good luck to me.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: The author of this work stakes no claim on Codename: Kids Next Door, nor does the author want to. Ownership belongs to Cartoon Network, Tom Warburton, and anyone who isn't me.**_

 _ **Enjoy.**_

* * *

 _It's been months and months, and yet, she's still not completely sure how everything happened. The memories are there, she doesn't forget things - won't, won't forget, some things are too important no no non onono - but regardless, something is… missing._

* * *

The thing she remembers first - always first, when she thinks of this event - is the sunrise. On this day, it is always the sunrise. She wakes up early in preparation for school, highshool, like she does everyday - before the sun is out, just peaking over the horizon at the ungodly hour of six am. Her backpack is set from the day before, all homework done, things packed away just waiting to be picked up and dragged through all her classes again.

Repetition is important, so like everyday, she goes through her routine: brush teeth, splash water on face, use bathroom, battle to the death with hair, change into school clothes, put on coffee, wake up Mom and Dad, pester one of them to wake Abby up, watch TV with breakfast, go to school.

Usually, she's out before her sister leaves her room. It's better that way, because though they can usually put on an act in front of their parents, there are slip ups, and the tension between them always rises through the roof.

She likes to walk to school. Small breezes brush against her face as she passes each house, reciting names, ages, and a bunch of other insignificant details she knows about their inhabitants. She listens to her footfalls as she walks, the noise around her mostly blending together in the background. It takes about one thousand _(one thousand four hundred thirty seven, her mind whispers)_ paces to get to school directly. It takes a whole lot more to detour into the park to get there, but as usual, she has time. And as usual, she takes a left instead of going straight ahead to her original destination.

The park is nice, really, in the morning. Most students try to get as much sleep in as they can, and never bother to come here this early. The same could be said for the children. It's quiet, the only noise her footsteps (which she has unconsciously silenced, moving very much like a shadow) and the chirping of birds and other small animals hunting around. There are benches, but it's mostly grass, flowers, and nature, except for a small pavilion and fountain they built for small kids who happened to get lost.

She walks to the top of a hill, _the_ hill - the one that kids roll down on from the top to see who gravity has the most effect on, and who can hurt themselves the least on the trip down before their parents come and scold them for being reckless. She walks to the top and sits, like she usually does - because this was like every other day, wasn't it? - and watches the sun rise.

The sky moves from deep purple to red to orange, pink, yellow, and slowly blue in the span of minutes. From the hill, one of the highest points in the town, it's extremely clear, and there isn't a cloud in the sky. It's a powerful image, she decides later, and incredibly ironic. It was picturesque, almost perfect in every way, a vision of everything right in the world, and later, in the far future, she thinks _If there is a god,_ a shuddering breath, _If there is a god in this world, then whoever it is probably gets a kick out of watching his subjects struggle and despair like this, doesn't he._ It's absolutely beautiful, she thinks instead at this time. And after checking her watch, she makes her way to school.

* * *

She doesn't do much that day after school. The Teen Ninja's don't have anything planned, she doesn't really have anything to do, and her sister is still in school, so she opens the door, drops her bag off in her room, and turns on the TV. Mom and Dad are still at work, and she's been lucky enough to avoid getting homework in any of her classes.

The minutes blend together as her mind wonders off to who-knows-where, and she hears the lock click and door open as Abigail enters the house. It's strange. Usually, Abby isn't home until after Mom and Dad arrive _(and really, that should've been the first sign that something was wrong)_ , but she takes it at face value and decides that maybe her annoying younger sister got a day off too. It doesn't bother her, really. Sure Abigail is immature, childish, annoying and downright _infuriating_ sometimes, but it's really the rest of the Kids Next Dork that she can't stand.

There still isn't much to do though, so she makes the decision to go up and possibly annoy or somehow neutrally hang out with her. Only, when she get's there, the window is open and Abigail is nowhere in sight. The only thing she can do is sigh, because really, she should've been expecting that.

The rest of the day goes by pretty slowly, and she doesn't really check her phone ( _for some reason_ ) that day until the shrill ringtone assigned to Unknown numbers assaults her ears. It's a debate between whether she could answer it or not - it could be important; some of the Teen Ninjas have disposable phones they use to contact for help, even though they shouldn't be doing anything at all today - but after a moment of deliberation of talking to someone or going back to doing nothing, her boredom wins out and she answers.

They say many things, the doctors, and most of them she can't remember _(she_ can _but she doesn't_ want to _)_ , but she can feel the numbing of her chest, heart, lungs, arms, legs as a wave of dread, panic, and detachment washes over her.

The fragments she catches make too little and too much sense at the same time and she can string together the words _'accident', 'work', 'car', 'father',_ and _'dead'_ together with little thought to what they really mean. She doesn't want to think of what they mean, what they represent. She wants to go back in time, to go back five, ten minutes ago when she hadn't heard any of this, when she hadn't thought that the words _'mother'_ and _'alive'_ used together in the same sentence would anchor her to this world and stop her from drifting into a sea of numbness.

 _What?_ is all she can think. Vaguely, she feels something - _tears_ \- running down her face, and her voice trembles as she gives some kind of response. Her knees are weak, and it's really all she can do to keep herself composed enough to respond until the phone call ends, because as soon as the end tone sounds, Cree Lincoln feels something break.


End file.
